


Bounding Heart

by GoldenTruth813



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Body Positivity, Boys In Love, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Kink Exploration, Lingerie, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Not Season/Series 08 Compliant, Post-Canon, Shiro in Lingerie, keith in lingerie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21606559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/pseuds/GoldenTruth813
Summary: Shiro's building up the courage to surprise Keith with one of his deepest fantasies. Unbeknownst to Shiro, Keith's got a surprise of his own in store for him too.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 67
Kudos: 280





	Bounding Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hannahonice (hannahcook93)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahcook93/gifts).



> Thank you whiskyandwildflowers for the incredible beta you're an angel.

Shiro fingers the delicate white lace in his hands, marveling at the softness. 

He moves to put on the panties and then hesitates—the dainty piece of lingerie dangling from his fingers—as he worries that doing this as a surprise won’t go over well. It’s not like he or Keith have ever talked about lingerie, so he’s got no fucking idea how Keith might react. In fact, Shiro’s never told anyone about this thing he likes—about the way his heart races a little faster and his stomach flutters when he thinks about the luxe material sliding against his skin—he’s never let himself. 

Back before Kerberos, and the war, he’d been all too aware of the way people perceived him—big and strong, not the lingerie _type_ —whatever the hell that was supposed to be. Between that and his own uncertainties regarding how deep his own desires ran, well, he’d never gotten the courage to try it out for real. It’d been nothing more than a fantasy Shiro pushed away, the same way he did with a lot of the things he wanted.

Shiro had been content to let it remain a fantasy too. At least until a few weeks ago when he’d been buried deep in Keith, his arms and legs trembling as he’d breathed in the same air as Keith and felt closer to him than he’d ever felt to anyone. Keith had wrapped his legs around Shiro, heels digging into Shiro’s back as he’d whispered _”Fuck I love everything about you, Shiro_ as if it was the simplest thing in the world for him to say. As if he didn’t absolutely destroy Shiro daily with his easy affection and words of devotion.

At Keith’s words, an image of himself dressed in lace had risen to the forefront of his mind, and he’d been unable to rid himself of it ever since. The idea of pretty lace pulled taut across his chest as he fucked Keith, or maybe Keith getting his finger inside a pair of tiny panties to pull them to the side and fucking Shiro while he wore on. The harder he tried not to think about it, the more he thought about it until Shiro felt like he might go crazy if he kept it up.

Shiro’s used to trying to hide the things about himself he thinks other people won’t like, but it’s different with Keith—everything is different with Keith. For once, he doesn’t want to hide this part of himself for fear of rejection. Rather, he wants to dig out the pieces of himself that are harder to love and hand them to Keith on a silver platter.

He wants Keith to see him—all of him—apparently even the part of him that wants to be dressed up in something small and frilly.

He supposes it probably would’ve been safer to simply say _Hey Keith, what would you think if I put on something pretty for you?_ before going out and buying a bunch of lingerie for himself, but every time he’d thought about giving voice to the desire, his throat got too small and the words wouldn’t come. Actions have always been easier for Shiro anyway so it makes sense, he thinks, that he’s decided to just go for it.

He looks at the clock and summons all of his courage. Keith’s due home from his meeting any minute now. If Shiro’s gonna back out, now is the time. Except the moment he entertains the idea, he knows that he doesn’t want to. He wants this. He wants to show this part of himself to Keith. If Keith isn’t into it, then Shiro can put the desire back in its box but at least he tried.

With trembling hands, Shiro slips his feet though the leg holes of the lacy bottoms, pulling them up and repressing a shudder as the panties skim his calves and stretch over the girth of his thighs. The material is impossibly smooth, unlike the plain cotton boxers he normally wears and his cock hardens a bit as the material stretches taunt over his hips. He picked the boyshort style ones in the hopes they’d fit better than the smaller, daintier styles, but apparently all this specific choice did is highlight that his body type isn’t made for this type of clothing—he’s too thick all over and the panties are stretched to the absolute max. He pushes away the insecurity threatening to rise at the idea that his body isn’t nice enough for something so pretty, reminding himself of the hours just last week Keith had spent mouthing along the inside of his thighs and digging his fingers into meaty flesh as he’d sucked Shiro’s brains out through his dick. Keith isn’t shy about letting Shiro know how much he likes the thickness of Shiro’s thighs—his thickness everywhere, really—so maybe it’s alright that the material looks close to ripping as it stretches over his body. 

It’s strange to simultaneously like the way he looks yet feel so unsure about it at the same time. 

He looks down to see his dick straining against the material before he twists his neck around, trying to look at the back of his outfit. There’s an immediate rush of pleasure that swirls low in his gut as he takes in the elaborately tied white bow just above his ass. He likes it. He likes it a lot. 

He hopes Keith will too. 

Shiro is tempted to look in the mirror but resists. He’s not sure if the image he has of himself will be what’s reflected back at him, so he avoids the temptation, reaching instead for the tiny bralette on the bed. It barely fits, and Shiro struggles to get the bra hooks done and the straps pulled up over his shoulders. Even after going up a size more than he thought he might need, it’s a struggle, but somehow he manages. Despite how long Shiro’s privately fantasized about wearing something just like this, he still finds himself surprised by how nice it feels to see the scalloped lace covering his pecs, or the way his dark nipples look peeking through the nearly opaque material.

Shiro huffs out a breath, suddenly lightheaded at the sound of the front door opening. It’s just Keith. Even if Keith is one hundred percent not into the lingerie, he wouldn’t ever laugh at Shiro.

And yet the closer the footsteps get, the closer Shiro feels to being sick.

“Shiro?” Keith calls from what is unmistakably their living room.

Shiro swallows down the rush of nerves and forces his voice into what he hopes is a neutral tone as he yells, “In the bedroom.”

There’s a pause, and Shiro can barely hear the sound of Keith kicking off his boots near the couch above the thundering roar in his ears.

He breathes slowly, in and out. In and out.

As the doorknob turns, it occurs to Shiro that perhaps he didn’t think this entire _surprise the love of my life with me in lingerie_ scenario through, because he has no idea how to stand or where to put his arms, and he suddenly wishes he’d asked before springing this surprise on Keith. 

Keith, who is standing in the open doorway looking at Shiro like he’s never seen him before—eyes wide and mouth agape.

The bottom drops out of Shiro’s stomach, and it takes all his self control not to rip the blanket off their bed and hide beneath it. 

“Shiro,” Keith croaks.

“Hi, Keith.”

“You, um— _wow_.”

Keith doesn’t look horrified, which Shiro supposes is a positive, but he’s still gripping the doorknob like his life depends on it while staring at Shiro unblinking, and Shiro feels more than a little bit sick to his stomach. Shiro went through multiple best and worst case scenario reactions to his little surprise, but rendering Keith speechless in this way hadn’t been one of them.

“I can explain,” Shiro blurts, not entirely sure he wants to anymore.

“You’re wearing lingerie,” Keith observes as he drops his hand from the doorknob to let it hang by his side. “I thought...oh fuck. You kept looking at it when we went shopping last month when you thought I was on the phone, and you had that page open on your datapad last week, but I thought—it’s just not what I expected you to want.” Keith pauses and the sense of dread Shiro’d been fighting off settles in his chest.

He didn’t realize he’d been so obvious. Shiro tries to ignore the tremble in his lip and opens his eyes wide to stave off the moisture. He will not cry. He absolutely will not cry. Keith is surprised is all, which is fair, really, since Shiro didn’t prepare him. But he loves Shiro and this won’t change that. 

“I’m sorry,” Shiro apologizes.

“Wait, what the fuck are you apologizing for?” Keith asks, striding across the room, stopping only when he’s standing before Shiro. 

“Uh...springing this on you without any kind of warning. I should have asked first if it was something you might be into, but I just—”

“I’m into it,” Keith interrupts, reaching out to rest a hand on Shiro’s hip. His thumb strokes over the sharp angle of Shiro’s hip bone just above the waistband of the panties. Then he moves it just an inch or so lower so that the pad of his thumb brushes over the lace. “Fuck, I’m so into it, Shiro.”

 _Oh_. Keith repeats the action, his thumb brushing against the tip of Shiro’s dick through the lace, and Shiro is helpless to hold back the shudder that courses through him at that touch, or at Keith’s words. God, he loves him so much.

“You just seemed surprised before is all,” Shiro says quietly, still perplexed by Keith’s reaction. He knows Keith would never lie to him, so if he says he’s into Shiro wearing the lingerie, then he is.

Keith laughs softly, pink rising high on his cheeks as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “Just a little bit. I thought...oh, for fuck’s sake, I’m an idiot.”

“Thought what?” Shiro asks, unsure how to read Keith’s response. There’s an all-too-familiar look of arousal in Keith’s eyes that bolsters Shiro’s confidence, but there’s a hesitancy too that makes Shiro falter. He reaches out to cup the side of Keith’s face, stroking his thumb across his cheek before dropping his hands. “You can tell me anything, baby.”

Keith closes his eyes and inhales deeply through his nose, exhaling slowly as he lifts his gaze from Shiro’s body to his face. He clenches his jaw and begins to undo the remaining buttons of his uniform jacket. Before Shiro can ask him what’s going on, Keith’s got enough buttons undone that Shiro can see black straps crisscrossing across his chest and a peek of bright red satin.

Oh. Oh fuck. 

“I thought you wanted me to wear the lingerie,” Keith whispers, trailing his fingers over the frilly edge of Shiro’s bralette. 

“You’re wearing lingerie,” Shiro stutters, feeling stupid for stating the obvious. He thinks he understands Keith’s reaction now.

Keith nods, dropping his hand form Shiro’s chest and moving it back to his own jacket—clearly intending to do up the buttons again—but Shiro’s hands fly up and he shakes his head. “I wanna see. _Please_.”

Keith hesitates a beat, clearly self-conscious. Shiro hasn’t seen him look so unsure in years. 

“I, uh...but _you_ wanted to wear it. It was stupid of me to assume without asking. You didn’t want to see it on me,” Keith mumbles, the pink on his cheeks a full blown red now. The tips of his ears must be burning because they’re the same shade of crimson. His voice drops low when he speaks his last words. “I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Oh, baby,” Shiro croons, hand on Keith’s chin to tilt his eyes up. “I love everything on you.” Keith licks his lips but doesn’t move, his big doe eyes on Shiro as he bats his eyelashes. He’s so goddamn pretty it makes Shiro ache. 

“You really like it?” Keith asks, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Of course I do. Can I see the rest?” he asks, itching to push the uniform back off Keith’s shoulders and see more.

Keith hesitates for only a second before nodding. “Yes.”

Shiro makes quick work of the last few buttons, pushing the jacket open and groaning at the sight before him. It’s a strappy bralette with thin black straps crisscrossing Keith’s chest and the bra itself made of a silky satin. Shiro wants to touch, so he does, pressing his palms against the flat of Keith’s stomach and sliding them up, delighting in the sensation of cool satin against his fingertips.

A thought occurs to Shiro. A thought that takes shape in his mind and makes him weak in the knees.

“Sweetheart, is this a set?” 

“Yes,” Keith answers, grinning.

Shiro can’t hide the way his hands shake as he moves them to Keith’s pants, undoing the buttons then helping slide them down Keith’s impossibly long legs. 

“Jesus Christ, baby,” Shiro whistles when he takes in the tiny red satin panties along with the extra black straps that wind their way around Keith’s waist, making it look even tinier. The straps go down beneath the panties and reappear high on his thighs, continuing farther down to wrap around the thickest part. Keith’s not thick like Shiro, nor as broad. He’s all sharp angles and lethal muscles in a boyish build. There’s even a sheen of dark hair visible beneath the straps on his legs and it thrills Shiro even more. It’s not the lingerie doing it for Shiro—though it's certainly something to look at—but the lingerie on _Keith_.

Keith’s body is compact and lithe, but muscled, and the juxtaposition of his delicate features and strong body is only highlighted by the elaborate and dainty lingerie. He’s so damn beautiful, and Shiro can’t fathom what he’s done in his life to deserve someone like this who would lay all his own insecurities to the side in an attempt to please him.

Shiro knows every inch of that body better than he knows his own. There’s the cluster of freckles on Keith’s hipbone visible just above red silk, and a long jagged scar that cuts across his hipbone which stands out starkly beneath the crisscrossed black straps. There are others too, like the small burn peeking out from beneath the silky material covering his nipples, or the translucent but raised scar across his waist. Keith’s body is so resilient, so strong in every way—like Keith himself—and it's the most beautiful thing Shiro has ever seen.

He knows he’s staring, but he can’t seem to stop. Luckily, Keith doesn’t seem to mind.

“You really like this don’t you?” Keith asks, standing up a little taller under Shiro’s gaze. Shiro likes that too, likes the way Keith knows his worth now—really knows it. Keith cocks his hip a bit, turning his leg to show off the swell of his ass which hangs out of the barely there panties and yeah, maybe Shiro also likes it when Keith gets a little cocky like this—likes the pleasure that blossoms on Keith’s face when he knows Shiro can’t take his eyes off him. The only thing sexier than Keith, is Keith when he knows how good he looks . It does something funny to Shiro’s insides when Keith gets that glint in his eye, when he knows he’s turning Shiro on and teases him.

“Yes,” Shiro answers, too turned on to even think about trying to mask his own desires. “God, baby, look at you.”

“When I walked in here, I was worried that maybe I’d got it all wrong,” Keith says, reaching out to stroke a finger down Shiro’s stomach, a slow smile spreading across his face. “But maybe I got it right.”

Shiro is powerless to stop that laugh that bubbles out of his chest. “Beautiful and modest.”

“Hard to be modest when you’re looking at me like you want to eat me,” Keith counters, spreading his legs just a little bit.

“I mean, have you seen you?” Shiro laughs, placing his hands on Keith’s hips and urging him to spin.

Keith huffs out a laugh but indulges Shiro, turning very slowly. He stops halfway, giving Shiro a gorgeous view of Keith’s pert little ass adorned in black straps crossing across his flesh before he spins around fully to face Shiro. There’s a shit-eating grin on his face and it makes Shiro love him more.

He loves the way Keith’s joy bubbles out of him, as if he can’t contain it around Shiro—or, better yet, doesn’t _want_ to.

“Alright, Shirogane, your turn,” Keth instructs, waggling an eyebrow at Shiro and snapping his fingers.

Shiro licks his lips and feels his face flush with warmth. He’d been so consumed with appreciating Keith’s surprise, he’d damn near forgotten he was wearing lingerie too.

He remembers now though, and it’s as if a dam has broken—the flood of insecurity assaulting him.

Objectively, Shiro knows and believes that every body is a lingerie body. And he knows that he’s not the only one with scars. But knowing something to be true and believing it are two different things. Where the lingerie fits snugly on Keith’s compact, pretty frame, it stretches across Shiro’s frame as if it’s being tested to its limits. There’s nothing dainty or soft about Shiro’s body.

His body is strong and capable. Shiro is a survivor. But pretty it is not.

Fingers at his chin distract Shiro from his thoughts, and Keith gives Shiro a soft smile as he takes Shiro’s hand in his, lifting it in the air and rising onto his tiptoes to spin Shiro like he’s some sort of princess. It’s absolutely ridiculous, and Shiro is so fucking in love with him.

“Alright, alright,” Shiro laughs, obliging Keith.

He tries to go faster than Keith did, but Keith is no fool and clearly has other ideas, dropping Shiro’s hand so he can grab ahold of Shiro’s waist to keep him in place. Shiro forgets how to breath as Keith’s breath ghosts over his back, delicate fingers dancing across the lacy straps, following the curve of his spine. Keith’s fingers stop once more at Shiro’s hips, and he twists the lacy bow between his fingers as he presses featherlight kisses to the hollow between Shiro’s shoulder blades.

Beneath his touch, Shiro feels like he’s more than the lives he took and the scars that adorn his body in place of memories.

“Beautiful,” Keith whispers, and Shiro believes him.

“How long?” Keith asks, nuzzling his nose into Shiro’s shoulder. His hair tickles and there’s a brush of satin against Shiro’s ass that has him inhaling sharply.

Shiro understands now what Keith was doing and must've known it’s easier for Shiro to answer this way.

“Dunno, a long time.” Shiro shrugs, unsure he can pinpoint when it really started even if he wanted to. “And do you uh...like it? Wearing it I mean.”

Keith hums behind him, mouthing along Shiro’s shoulder blade as he dips his pointer finger beneath Shiro’s waistband. “It’s alright. I like the way it feels when you look at me. What about you?”

“I like the way it feels. I like—” Shiro pauses, breathing slowly to still the erratic thrum of his heartbeat. “I know it’s hard with my body, the way it looks and the things it's done, but the idea that it could be more than something that destroys—that it could just be _pretty_. It feels nice.”

“Oh,” Keith breathes, and for one heart-stopping moment, Shiro wonders if he’s somehow said the wrong thing. He never wants to be anything but honest with Keith, but sometimes Shiro’s truths feel ugly.

He can’t help but wonder if wanting to be strong and pretty all at once is asking too much. People like him aren’t supposed to want to be delicate too, especially not when he spent his entire life rallying against anyone treating him that way. But this is different. This isn’t being seen as delicate because of his illness, this is a type of vulnerability and fragility that comes from his own choosing, and there’s power in being the one to decide when and with whom he shares that.

“You like being pretty for me?” Keith queries, moving around Shiro until he’s directly in front of him. Shiro is helpless to look away or be anything but completely and utterly honest.

“Yes.”

“I like it too,” Keith says, leaving Shiro with no question about his sincerity. 

All the blood rushes to Shiro’s dick and he bites his lip to keep from whimpering. It’s the last bit of himself he’d been afraid to share, and now he has and Keith likes it. Keith, whose eyes roam up and down Shiro’s body like he’s something worth looking at, and Shiro feels lightheaded.

“Such a pretty boy,” Keith says, as if testing the phrase. His bare feet pad against the floor as he inches closer.

“Only for you,” Shiro whispers, overwhelmed by how wanted and seen he feels.

Keith sucks in a breath and then, without missing a beat, his lips are on Shiro’s as he kisses him without his usual finesse. “Mine.”

“Yours,” Shiro agrees, word mumbled against Keith’s mouth.

They stumble backward as Keith kisses him again, and Shiro’s hands find purchase on Keith’s waist, dragging his palms over the straps at Keith’s waist and swallowing down the quiet groan Keith makes.

As suddenly as Keith had begun the kissing, he stops, pulling back to stare at Shiro. His hair is falling into his eyes and his lips are shining and pink, and Shiro wants him so goddamn bad. 

“Bed. Now.”

Shiro doesn’t trust himself to speak so he nods, scrambling back onto the bed and spreading his legs to make room for Keith to follow. And follow Keith does, getting on his hands and knees as he crawls up the bed, grinning at Shiro like he knows exactly how fucking sexy he looks.

“ _Baby_ ,” Shiro breathes, unable to form a thought any more coherent than that.

“What do you want, princess?” Keith asks, setting between Shiro’s spread legs and sitting back on his heels. He straightens his back, chest heaving as he waits for Shiro to answer.

A shiver travels down Shiro’s spine at the nickname. Usual terms of endearment are more his forte, but that's...that’s nice. More than nice. Fuck.

“You,” Shiro gets out, unable to verbalize the desperate desires swirling through him. He wants so much but at the core of every single one of his deepest fantasies and desires is Keith.

“You’re so easy to please,” Keith laughs, hands on Shiro’s thighs as he urges Shiro to put them closer together so that Keith can straddle his waist. 

“Fuck,” Shiro grunts as Keith settles above him. The material of Shiro’s lingerie is so thin, Shiro can almost feel him, but it’s enough that Shiro can’t forget he’s wearing it and he likes that—likes the way his own dick feels trapped inside the soft lace.

“”Look at you,” Keith says, hooking a finger beneath the strap of Shiro’s bralette. “So pretty. So desperate for me. You want me so bad, don’t you?”

Shiro doesn’t answer, instead settling his hands on Keith’s hips, barely resisting the urge to palm Keith’s dick which strains against the flimsy red satin panties, the top inch or so of his dick popping out , and the cockhead shimmering with precome. Shiro has the sudden urge to reverse their positions and mouth against the fabric until it’s dripping wet with his own spit and Keith’s release. He also wants Keith to rub himself all over Shiro’s body until he’s an oversensitive screaming mess. He wants everything all at once and can barely think through the haze of arousal.

Shiro is thankfully spared from having to do any thinking, because Keith starts to move, rolling his hips down against Shiro’s and fuck, Keith is a genius. The drag is so good, the pressure delicious, and the friction nothing short of mind-blowing. Shiro’s died and gone to heaven and they’ve barely done anything. In fact, it’s nothing they haven't done a million times before but the feeling of his own laced-covered dick pressed up against Keith’s satin-covered one is something Shiro’s never felt before, and he wants to feel it again, so he digs his fingers into the flesh of Keiths ass and urges him down.

“Desperation looks good on you,” Keith huffs, resting his hands on the pillow on either side of Shiro’s head. “You want this so bad, want to drag me down against your dick and rub off on me until you’re making us both so messy don’t you?”

“ _Keith_.”

“I’m not wrong, am I?” Keith asks, rolling his hips once more. He does it slower this time with less pressure, and Shiro thrusts his hips up chasing the friction, but Keith shakes his head with a playful smirk. “You look so pretty spread out beneath me like this, dressed in lace and blushing. Every inch of you is a goddamn work of art. But you know what would make you even prettier?”

Shiro shakes his head, barely able to think straight.

“If you beg,” Keith tells him, his warm breath ghosting across Shiro’s face. “Come on, princess. Tell me how bad you want me. Tell me what you want me to do. I’ll give you anything you want, but you gotta beg me for it.”

Shiro groans, squeezing his eyes shut as a flush spreads across his body. 

Undeterred, Keith continues speaking. “You know you want to. You know want to tell me all the filthy things you want to do me, or have me to do to you. So what is it?”

A million ideas filter through Shiro’s brain as he takes in the attractive sheen of sweat across Keith’s chest and the splotchy flush of pink on his neck, but only one thing comes out of his mouth. “I love you, baby.”

Several expressions pass across Keith’s face—surprise, exasperation and, finally, fondness.

“Shiro, that’s the worst dirty talk I’ve ever heard in my entire fucking life.”

“I just love you, baby. So much. You’re so good to me. You take such good care of me, and you work so hard, and you’re so beautiful and strong and selfless, and I just...fuck—I love you.”

“Oh.” Keith swallows audibly, ducking his head. “I love you too.”

“You’re so good to me, baby. I want you so much.”

“Yeah?” Keith asks, peeking at Shiro through his bangs. 

“Yeah,” Shiro echoes, giving Keith’s ass a good squeeze to accentuate his point. 

“How much?” Keith asks with a soft grunt, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he rocks his hips against Shiro’s in a move that is anything but innocent. Shiro’s not sure if the groan he hears comes from his own mouth or Keith’s, and he’s not sure he cares. All he knows is that it feels good, really good.

“Baby, please,” Shiro begs, arching up against Keith.

“ _Baby, please_ , what?” Keith implored.

“Want you,” Shiro manages to get out in between a moan as Keith rocks their hips together. It’s so good, but it's not enough. He wants more. He needs more.

“Want me how?” Keith asks, dropping his face lower to nose against Shiro’s cheek and press a kiss to the side of his jaw.

“Fuck, baby,” Shiro whimpers, curling his hands around Keith’s hips.

“ _Fuck baby_ like you wanna fuck me? You wanna pull the panties to the side and split me open? Or _fuck baby_ , you want me to press you back into the pillow like the princess you are and fuck you the way you deserve? Or maybe _fuck baby_ you want me riding you so—”

“All of it,” Shiro blurts.

Keith throws his head back and huffs out a laugh. “Gotta pick one, princess.”

Shiro shakes his head, hooking his thumbs into Keith’s panties and tugging them down just an inch or so to reveal more of the glistening cockhead. He can’t pick. He wants everything with Keith all the time. For always.

“Maybe you want me just like this, huh?” Keith teases, rocking his hips forward so that the tip of his cock smears a bit of precome against the side of Shiro’s hand. “Want me to keep it all on and rut against you like we’re teenagers again, like we’re so desperate for each other we can’t  
even get our clothes off.”

Shiro’s mouth falls open on a gasp and Keith’s grin is nothing short of delighted.

“That is what you want isn't it?” He drops his knees so his weight is against Shiro whose dick is so hard it feels like it might actually explode. Instead of moving in earnest, Keith barely rocks his hips, just enough that pleasure builds at the base of Shiro’s spine, but not enough movement to get any real satisfaction. “Look at the way you’re flushing for me,”

“Baby, you’re gonna kill me,” Shiro groans, thumbs stroking over each of Keith’s hip bones. As tempting as it is to take the lead—to grip Keith’s hips a little tighter and urge him to move a little faster—he likes it just like this too. There’s something mind-numbingly good about the way Keith teases him, and Shiro doesn’t know how to put into words why exactly he likes it, just knows he does. Shiro’s never wanted anyone else to see the fragile misshapen pieces of his heart that don’t feel like they fit back together just right. At least, not until Keith.

“Fuck, just look at you. You want me so bad, don’t you? You’re so desperate,” Keith whispers, leaning his weight on his left hand as his right moves down to palm Shiro through the lace.

Shiro keens, a soul-deep moan ripped from his throat. Urged on by the sound, Keith does it again, working a few fingers beneath the waistband of the panties until he’s got most of Shiro’s dick out. The lace rubs above the base of his dick and his balls as Keith wraps his fingers around Shiro and begins to stroke. It’s all Shiro can do not to actually cry. Shiro loves Keith’s hands—so much smaller than his own—and capable of so much force, yet always so delicate with Shiro.

Keith’s chest heaves as he continues to stroke. Keith’s heartbeat must be off the chart ,because Shiro can see the pulse point at the side of his neck fluttering. It’s grounding somehow to know the desperation Shiro feels resides within Keith too, even if Keith is better at controlling it right now.

Shiro wants to tell Keith that he isn’t gonna last, that it’s too much, but Keith seems to know. He always knows. 

Keith releases Shiro’s dick, rising up onto his knees to fumble with his silk panties and shove them halfway down his ass to get his own dick out, and then he’s back again, moving in earnest this time as he ruts against Shiro.

“Come on, princess, make some noise for me,” Keith groans, his voice quivering. “I like knowing how much you want me. How desperate you are for me. Let me hear it.”

The sound Shiro makes is nothing short of a whine, and he probably should be embarrassed because he’s never made a sound like that in front of another living soul but Keith’s right, he is desperate. He’s wanted this for so long, and now Keith is here, moving above him, looking like sex incarnate, and acting as if Shiro in lingerie is a gift, and it’s all Shiro can do not to scream. Shiro had thought Keith wouldn’t mind the lace, knew Keith would probably indulge him, but he’d never in his wildest dreams imagined Keith might be as into it as Shiro is.

This is good, so good. Keith’s dick is as hard as his own, precome smearing between them and marring the lace and silk. The material rubs against Shiro’s hips, an added sensation driving him wild as Keith rocks against him feverishly.

“Fuck,” Keith exclaims, fingers digging into Shiro’s bicep as he rocks against him. “So fucking pretty.”

Shiro loses sense of the sounds he’s making, can’t hold them back even if he wanted to—which he doesn’t. With every grunt and groan and moan he makes, Keith’s thrusting becomes more erratic, his grip on Shiro’s biceps hard enough to leave marks. It urges Shiro on and he lifts his hips to match Keith’s thrusts. Shiro finds himself getting a little more brazen and louder with every roll of Keith’s hips.

It feels so good to let it out, to let the desperation clawing at the inside of his chest roar.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—” but Keith’s words are cut off by a groan as he shudders above him, his warm release coating Shiro’s dick and stomach.

“Fuck, baby, I love you,” Shiro croons, tangling his prosthetic in Keith’s hair and pulling him down for a slow, filthy kiss as he licks his way into Keith’s mouth and palms at Keith’s ass with his left hand.

It’s Keith’s turn to be noisy, emitting little mewls that Shiro swallows down as he kisses him, luxuriating in the way Keith’s hair feels between his metal fingers and the way Keith’s lips move against his own. Kissing Keith is like coming home, and he’s so lost in the slow, sensual glide it takes him a minute to release Keith’s capable hands are on his dick once more.

There’s no teasing this time, just the clack of teeth as their kisses grow sloppy and Keith’s strokes get frantic. He tightens his grip, twisting his wrist on the upstroke the way he knows makes Shiro’s toes curl, and it’s less than a minute before Shiro's coming, his moans greedily swallowed by Keith.

Once Keith’s stroked him dry, he collapses boneless on top of Shiro and rests his head in the center of Shiro’s chest as if listening to his bounding pulse. Shiro wonders if he knows that it beats for him.

“Thank you,” Shiro whispers, running his fingers through Keith’s hair.

“What for?” Keith asks, tilting his face up to peer at Shiro. He’s an absolute mess—splotchy and sweaty and sticking up every which way. He looks well fucked and is easily the single most beautiful thing Shiro’s ever seen.

“Just for being you.” Shiro strokes the hair off Keith’s face, his heart flip-flopping when Keith leans into the touch, a tender smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t think he will ever be over the easy way Keith places his trust in him even after everything, and knows that he will never take it for granted. “You’re perfect.”

“Oh,” Keith breathes, eyes wide as he looks at Shiro. There was a time Keith would’ve averted his gaze or tried to play down Shiro’s praise. He doesn't now, and it makes Shiro’s affection for him swell, reaching a crescendo and bursting.

“I love you so much, baby.”

Keith hums, inching his way up Shiro’s body to rub their noses together. “You said that already. You’re getting sappy, old timer.”

Shiro barks out a laugh, tangling his hands in Keith’s hair to shut him up with a kiss. 

It works, at least for a few glorious seconds as Keith melts against Shiro, going boneless as Shiro deepens the kiss. It doesn’t last long though because then Keith abruptly pulls back, ignoring the pout Shiro throws his way.

“Why did you stop?” Shiro asks, too disappointed to care that he maybe possibly sounds a bit petulant. 

“Because,” Keith says, dragging his finger along the scalloped edges of Shiro’s bra. He dips the tip under, the sharp edge of his nail dragging across Shiro’s skin and sending a shiver down his spine. “I do believe you said something about letting me press you back into the pillows while I fuck you until you’re boneless and spent, your legs quivering and your dick aching. Until I’ve got you beneath me screaming my name as you come. And then—”

“Then what,” Shiro gasps as Keith’s nail drags across nipple.

“Then I’m gonna clean up the mess we made, stroke your hair until you fall asleep and then, once you’ve got a bit of rest, I’m gonna wake you up with my mouth on your lace-covered dick, and when you’re hard and aching and begging for more, you’re gonna put those big hands on me and wrap them around my waist the way you like while I ride you.”

“Then what?” Shiro asks with trembling fingers skirting up Keith’s spine.

“Then we’re gonna sleep and when we wake up, you’re going fuck me so good I can barely walk, and then you’ll make me pancakes.”

A laugh bubbles out of Shiro’s chest as he twists a finger through one of the black straps at Keith’s waist. “Thought about this a lot?”

“All day,” Keith murmurs, nudging Shiro’s legs apart with his knees. 

Shiro’s face flushes at the idea of Keith imagining the same things as him, at the idea of Keith in his meeting with all that pretty silk beneath his uniform, barking orders at others while thinking about railing Shiro into the mattress. Despite their previous endeavors, Shiro isn’t surprised to find that his dick is somehow halfway to hard already.

“Now lay back, princess,” Keith murmurs against the inside of Shiro’s thigh, nosing his way up to the flat of Shiro’s hip. “Let me take care of you.”

Shiro does as he’s told, settling into mattress as Keith mouths at the lace, digging his fingers beneath it to tug it roughly to the side followed by the sound of ripping lace.

“You’re going to ruin it,” Shiro says, not sure if he actually cares so long as Keith keeps touching him.

“Oh no, that would be terrible,” Keith feigns with the phoniest air of concern Shiro’s ever heard. 

Keith lifts his head, resting his cheek against the inside of Shiro’s thigh as he peers at Shiro. There’s the hint of a smirk playing at his lips as he tugs harder, ripping the delicate lace so that most of Shiro’s ass is exposed—the panties hanging on by a few threads. “ _Whoops_.”

“Baby,” Shiro laughs, earning him a full blown smile.

“Guess I'll have to take you shopping tomorrow for more. You’ll have to try them all on for me too, damn what a hardship.”

Shiro means to say something but whatever it is flies out of his head as quickly as it came the second Keith bends down to swipe his tongue along the crease of Shiro’s ass, his nose buried in lace. Yeah He’s pretty sure both of their lingerie will be ruined by the end of the night and he couldn’t be happier about it.

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream about Sheith with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/goldentruth813). <3


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